


DRAGONHEART.

by youubi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Blood and Injury, Dragon Kibana | Raihan, Drakengard AU, Embedded Images, Knight Dande | Leon, M/M, Middle Ages, Mute Leon, Muteness, Rating may change to explicit for later chapters, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, but no drakengard knowledge necessary to read, improper usage of nier/drakengard lore im sorry, it is a fantasy religion however!, no beta bc i like dying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27416479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youubi/pseuds/youubi
Summary: "Here the contract will once more be forged between Dande and Kibana, may the Goddess bear witness to this renewal. Our bodies and minds will be brought together in a holy bond. My shield and your sword will again combine to create the hero of Hammerlocke and serve as the true Guardian of the Goddess. Champion, do you accept this contract? Then give me your heart and combine it with mine."Drakengard AU where the Champion knight Leon loses his ability to speak and the dragon Raihan becomes his voice. No Drakengard or Nier knowledge is necessary to read this fic.
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Hop, Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21





	DRAGONHEART.

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORANT NOTES: This is only loosely inspired by Drakengard and only draws certain aspects of the original materials for this fic. Please take caution in looking towards the original material as it contains lots of dark elements, however much of that is omitted for this fic. I will also be using Japanese names as part of the lore for this fic, if you are unfamiliar with these names then please just know that Dande is Leon and Kibana is Raihan. 
> 
> Also note that images of dragon Raihan are included at the bottom of the fic, for those who do not wish to look at images of dragons please skip over the large gap near the end and go straight to the bottom of the page!
> 
> Otherwise, any important lore details will be listed in the end. Thank you!

Leon remembers how someone (he couldn't remember who, it was a passing face with brilliant blue eyes that flutter on the edges of his memory) had once sardonically noted to him that Hammerlocke's greatest strength was also its greatest flaw.

All he can remember that it was long ago, during a time when dragons still flew freely in the sky.

"The walls, they've been breached!" The messenger rushes into the courtyard with a cry, his hurried steps emphasized against the dark cobblestone.

His voice carries clear over the armored bodies that bear the blue crest of the historic city, and among them Leon stands gravely as the very floor shakes with the oncoming breach of the Rose. His knuckles go pale from the grip on the hilt of his sword, his eyes levelled with the scout as he approaches in a hurried rush.

The news was inevitable, Leon knew it so. The Empire of Wyndon had long fallen to the Order of the Rose, and the Order knew not subtlety as clear by the large battering rams that they had brought with them to outside of Hammerlocke's great walls, adorned with bombastic red adornishments that served as said weapons' decor. The walls did little to deafen the rowdy cheers of those rose-clad beasts and the rhythmic, dooming noise of metal on stone.

The Order weren't here to dawdle, this invasion was genuine. This was a preemptive siege meant to topple the last stronghold of the Union.

"The walls, they've been… it's over, the walls have fallen, the gates have been opened!" The messenger speaks again, that thin chest heaving with breaths of labor, an ominous despair taking on those young features. He couldn't be any older than fourteen, those lithe, quick limbs that come with the age the best features for the necessities of the position. Leon's lips thin, his mind wandering to those young eyes that had once dreamed of running across the lands to carry messages much different from this one, back when they had lived together in the smaller town of Postwicke, protected by their dumb naivete.

He is suddenly very aware of the murmuring soldiers that stand below him from his position atop the fountain center of the plaza (a place he had once visited with the seal back when they were but youths, when even the stars seemed like they were in their grasp), the tinny clang of metal-on-metal ringing in his ears as men shift their weight in nervous looks. Leon sets his teeth before turning, settling that piercing, golden gaze on his men -- and it only takes that one look for them to still, turning their hesitant eyes towards their captain.

He starts with a breath before speaking. "Men, this is the day we've all trained for, toiled in the grueling rain or in the angry sun in training fields to dirt-paved roads to reach. Today is the day we defend Hammerlocke, the day we mark our names down in history." His tone is disciplined, controlled, a confident voice that doesn't bely the truth of the fears that have settled deep in his stomach.

"The best of the best stand with me here today. We together are guardians of the seal, the very carriers of the will of the Goddess. She has entrusted us with this monumental task, our very city with the seal. Our forces stand strong against the adversity of the empire, and their sins will not go unpunished!" His golden eyes look across the sea of warriors, faces young and old looking brightly towards him (and he wavers, slightly, his chest heavy).

Nonetheless, his impromptu speech rallies his soldiers as they stand taller, chins raised, those downtrodden eyes now steely with resolve. In this moment of rolling momentum, Leon unsheathes his sword, a bright metallic sound that reveals the dark-metallic surface embedded with the blue gems symbolizing the Champion glinting in the noon-sun light that streams its way through slits in the stone walls, a light that plays across his purple mane in a halo of light: the very image of the Goddess' Champion. "We will not falter, we will not fall. We may lose our lives, but know not failure. We will succeed even when our Goddess carries our souls away from our bodies, and we will triumph! For the protection of this world's peace, for the Goddess!"

He raises his weapon to the devout cries of his men (and again his mind wanders to him that seated in his lonely tower, whether he can hear their war cries, whether he feels fear and he wishes nothing more to run a comforting touch over those fretful hands, to once again touch those curly, violet locks). 

With a mere movement of his hand he has his men marching out of the courtyard with weapons in tow, a grim frown (ageless and yet simultaneously so unseeming of his age) taking on his features as the last soldier streams out. 

It never felt good to lead your young men out to their impending death. 

A hand on his shoulder has him looking to his second-in-command and the seal's personal knight with a tired sigh. Sonia offers up a kind (but anxious, Leon could tell by the wrinkle in her brow and from years of friendship) smile in return.

"We can protect him, Leon, I promise."

Leon sheaths his sword again and retrieves the helmet he had abandoned earlier upon the stone floor (he had found that it was much easier to encourage his men when they could see his eyes, the golden eyes of the prophesied family). The cold object sits in his hands as a reminder of the battle to come as he speaks quietly, brows furrowed as the words hiss through clenched teeth.

"No, we _will_ protect him, even if I'm the last man standing." His words are terse, hands now drawing that metal adornment over his head with a determined gaze (and Sonia looks briefly away, an unreadable glint in her own eyes). 

For a moment Sonia remembers when they were younger, when Leon had less wrinkles upon his youthful brow and his shoulders weren't constantly heavy with the weight of his burdens.

"Stay with him, Sonia, I'm entrusting him to you."

Sonia's lips thin as she presses them, taking a shaky breath through her nose. "Then stay alive, Leon. He needs you, don't throw your life away."

He hesitates, already half out the courtyard but looks over his shoulder back at her anyways. He smiles. "I'll try." His eyes say otherwise.

Sonia struggles not to call out again as she watches the city's Champion leave for the battlefield.

  
  


-

The battle was gruesome and long, Leon struggling not to step on the bodies of his fallen comrades as the rusty scent of ichor sits heavy on the air, metal boots slipping on the viscera that spot the once spotless cobblestone bridge. He struggles to lift his shield to block the oncoming axe, weight faltering momentarily as he feels the metal dent at the impact.

They hadn't stood a chance, not with their rows upon rows of mages, many of the bodies of men he had once eaten with, slept with, trained and talked with now burnt with the dark tinge of insidious magicks. 

Leon watched helplessly as man-after-man fell upon his side of the battle, the tattered banners of blue shredded upon the ground, and the axe-user tugs the shield out of Leon's grip the same moment he swings his sword around to hit the man's exposed underarm, the rose-carrying warrior falling uselessly to the side as their arm falls with a dull thud to the ground.

With a moment to breathe, Leon takes count. Fewer than a hundred of the original three-hundred men still stood on the bridge, and no doubt their reserves on the other side of the city were suffering similar losses. He shifts his sword to the other side of himself, the object heavy with the lives of the fallen and the exhaustion of battle. Even if he were to be the last man standing, he will keep this city safe, for the sake of those innocent golden eyes that doubtless were peering out in fear out of that tall, lonely tower.

With another cry he rushes forward (and the men beside him follow him to their glory… to their deaths).

-

He had lost feeling in his arm several hours ago, his fingers still pale from the strength of the grip he had upon his sword. He may have lost one of his ears from a stray attack from a mage, the side of his face now sticky with cauterized blood, his very veins throbbing in agony from the touch of black magic. His hair stuck to his forehead, the ends of his long purple locks dyed a carnelian hue. The battle had started back when the sun was high, said sun now slowly taking refuge behind the mountain line. Their forces now stood at less than fifty, but their determination had driven forces back behind one of the outer walls.

Despite this small victory, Hammerlocke's men knew that they were set to attack again in the morning. The Rose was dogged, and the smoke and wavering light of campfires in the distance promised their return.

Leon steps over a stray body, willing himself to not look at whether it be an ally or foe, his eyes instead fixated upon the tall spiraling tower that sits in the middle of the city. Despite his abysmal sense of direction, there was no way he could ever lose his way from that tower. He has memorized its location by heart, from the countless moments he has taken to steal a look towards that lonely, cold tower, to the small window that sits to the east to greet the morning sun in order to try and spy a _glance_ of those lonely, golden eyes. 

He had to reach this tower, no matter the consequences. He must know for himself the state of the sanctum, the soul of Hammerlocke.

For if the battle had reached there, not even the Goddess will be able to withhold Leon's despair.

His sword falls with a clatter as he takes slow, heavy steps beyond the once most guarded doors to the city (now sitting unmanned, its guards now dead upon the ground). Leon takes a shaky breath as he reaches the innermost holy ground of the city, the location that contains the doors to the tower and the entrance to a shrine that even the most sanctious of their priests were not allowed to enter. His eyes fell from the tower to the shrine, looking at the large marble stone that serves as the covering to the shrine in the ground.

He had only entered this area once before, back when they had first chosen the next heir to the seal. He had just been knighted, unknowing that taking on that title had meant the blessing of the Goddess was then to be passed on to the next in line of the golden eyed. 

His younger brother's voice (so strong, despite the fact he had been crying) remains steady in his head. "Don't worry, Lee, it's an _honor_ to receive the seal. Besides, this means I'll be able to watch you whenever I want now, so it only benefits me, your biggest fan, in the long run, right?"

Those golden, bright eyes that had remained bright just for him passed through his memories and Leon fell to his knees in relief, shoving off his helmet to the side in a puff of air. The blood had not reached here, the men that had fallen outside had protected this place to their deaths. He lowers his head, feeling the sting of tears as his eyes squeeze shut, bloodied hands reaching up to wipe desperately at his face.

The unmistakable warmth of tears run over the grime on his face, passing through his fingers and touching the ground as he lets out a breathy sob. His chest hurt, his heart squeezing as he thinks to his fallen men, to the fallen boys he had let down by just not being aware enough, by not being quick enough, by just not being _strong_ enough.

During this moment of respite, he was going to allow himself to mourn. Just for a bit, just for a few moments, he would let himself be vulnerable for but a small time. Even a Champion was merely human at times.

How long does he cry? How long does he mourn for his city and his people? Is that broken voice and laborious breathing his? How unfamiliar this all was, despite the years of training, despite the years of discipline and years knowing that this day was to arrive, sooner or later.

But he had spent many days praying to the Goddess that it would be the latter rather than the sooner.

As he struggles to open his swollen eyes to watch his tears stain the white marble shrine's entrance, his mind is briefly overtaken by an intense heat. Leon sharply moves his head, jolting up as a rumbling voice makes its way into the innards of his mind.

_'A Champion reduced to tears, how pitiful such a sight is upon my shrine. Just how low has the city fallen in my absence?'_

Leon scrabbles for his sword raising the weapon as he looks around him in a panicked hurry, his foot displacing the helmet that had sat next to his feet as it clatters about the marble, its bloody surface streaking red trails upon the white marble. While whatever magic this could be lacked that palpable darkness of the Rose's mages, it still was foreign and unfamiliar enough for Leon's hackles to be raised.

"Who's there, is this another one of your dark tricks?" he calls out, his voice brave (but a cold settles again in his stomach, would he alone and battleworn be able to defend the inner sanctum of the city?). 

The voice rumbles again, seemingly bemused at his reaction. _'A weary Champion, of course. Good to see that your carefulness has carried on throughout your lifetimes, Dande.'_

His Champion name, the name passed on from knight to knight that come from his lineage. Leon grimaces, that sword standing steady in the air and his previous exhaustion forgotten as he continues to scan the area, turning slowly. "What do you mean, lifetimes, and how do you know of that name?"

_'I knew you once, long ago. In fact, I've continued to know you throughout all these years, Dande. Ah, but you are currently Leon, yes? You mortals and your strange names. Human pleasantries such as those were always mere trifles to me.'_

Before Leon could retort (just something, _anything_ to try and sort this strange fog of familiarity that befuddles his head) the voice makes another rumbling noise (akin to a yawn, Leon notes with tired exasperation). ' _So the Rose has returned, a pity. Here I was enjoying my rest… but it seems the time for my reawakening has arrived once more. Approach the shrine, Leon_.'

A great rumbling shake that rattles his very core has the knight turning in a sharp gasp as the white doors covering the shrine open up on their own, the heavy stone surfaces vibrating and crumbling with the movement. Leon watches in awe as the shrine opens up to reveal a great staircase spiralling downwards into the depths of the city, torches of some unknown type of impossible flame (for no one should have breached this shrine in _millenia_ ) ablaze and adorning the pristine walls.

He approaches carefully, peeking over the entrance to the maw of the opening in the ground to see that the staircase spirals endlessly down into the ground into a dark unknown, only lit by the flames that play shadows against the walls. He steps back again, looking over his shoulder again to take another survey of the premise, looking for the telltale red banners of the enemy, suspicion laced in his every movement and the voice returns in a growl.

' _You will find none of the dark ones in this area, not with my presence so close to this surface. You insult me, being so cautious, have you no wish to defend the city? Quickly, before evening settles._ '

Leon feels that familiar fog return to his head and blue eyes dance upon the edges of his memories. Despite his better judgement, his instincts, his _soul_ trusted this voice. With only a breath of hesitation, he lowers his sword, the weapon instead lying near his hip as he takes a tentative first step down the staircase. 

And some inner self of him knew that he had done this before, perhaps many, many times.

The flames flicker across the bruised metal of his armor as he descends lower and lower into the heart of his city, the dusty smell of history and age running over him as a heated breeze runs over his skin and flickers the torches that light his way. As he went lower and lower he became more acutely aware that this breeze was metered, arriving in steady, measured counts.

_Breathing_. Of what sort of great beast could carry lungs with a capacity large enough to create such wind? 

The light dims gradually as he finds himself farther and farther from the surface, his steps stopping to spare a brief glance up revealing the golden-blue tinged sky of twilight rising farther and farther away from himself.

' _Afraid?_ '

Leon's head snaps back to look to his feet as he continues to briskly walk down the stairs. When he speaks the words echo across the walls, words carried down to whatever awaits him below. "No, never. There is only one thing that can cause fear in my heart, and he is well-protected."

A growling rumble reverberates through Leon's mind, a deep vibration that reaches the ends of his fingertips. _'Is that so? How admirable… and yet idiotic of you. People need to be afraid, it is what makes your kind human. A loss of fear in the unknown leads to the sins of chaos.'_

Leon does not respond, but the statement brings to mind another memory of days spent in the church of the Goddess, the priest speaking similar words during the sermon.

Soon the vault of sky was but a mere dot above, the light of the stars barely reaching where Leon was still descending this endless spiral of stairs. He remembers not when he had first noticed it, but he had found himself surrounded no longer by walls but of hallways and interconnected rooms walled by books and other historical artifacts, tapestries of epic tales past sitting proud upon the stone walls, the empty, threaded eyes of the heroes of said tales reflecting the light of the torches. 

_'My collection, offerings given to me by those who had sought knowledge ages past, before I had shackled myself to this city. Unfortunately I suppose I still am a slave to my nature, still needing a hoard.'_ The being answered before Leon could voice his inquiry, as if this being could see through his eyes.

_'Not so far from the truth, Champion. In another lifetime, I was your eyes.'_

Despite the oddity of the situation, the enigmatic statement left the fog in his head even stronger than before, those blue eyes no longer dancing but instead sitting patiently in the recesses of his consciousness, as if waiting for him.

He had lost track of time, perhaps it had been only minutes, perhaps it had been several hours when he finally descended the last ring of stairs, his feet heavy from carrying his weight so long without rest after the exhaustion of battle. He had abandoned his armor several flights up, setting the dented metal pieces upon a table of books opened to random pages (as if someone had abandoned them midway their reading). His sword had been sheathed then too, but he had kept it tethered to his hip (the only line of defense he could not bear to sacrifice). 

Leon leans against the wall to support his every increasingly hard-to-support weight, his eyes struggling to pierce through the dimness of the very bowels of his city. While he could see little, the rush of air and the echoing sound his footsteps revealed the cavern-like vastness of the area he now found himself in. The being no longer rumbles within his mind, now speaking outwardly, the voice surrounding his weak form in its strong carriage.

"Finally, you have reached me. Approach before your legs fail you, your stamina is wearing thin."

Leon obeys, too tired to protest, too addled with battle injuries to be weary. As he steps into the cavern he is dully aware of a pair of blue eyes opening in the middle of the darkness, rising to peer towards the now stumbling knight with a rumble of laughter.

"The weakness of you humans… It is what drew me to your species in the first place, and yet it never fails to amuse me." 

Leon catches himself with his hands and knees, chest heaving as he coughs up what little breath he can catch in his lungs, the unbearable heat of the room making his movements languidly slow (almost as if he were caught in the warmth inside a beating heart itself, the heart of the city he so very much loves).

"I've reached you, whatever you are. Now fulfill your promise… protect my city." Leon struggles with every word, lips and throat dry from lack of moisture, his head swimming from hunger. The being laughs again, arrogant and cocky.

" _Your_ city? I suppose it may seem so, the title of Champion has always carried such misconstrued implications alongsides it. But, maybe that holds more truth then I am willing to admit." 

Leon finds himself increasingly annoyed with the roundabout nature of whoever (or whatever) he was speaking to, his swimming vision only able to focus upon the glowing blue eyes that sit high above him. In a burdensome, heavy gesture, drawing upon whatever miraculous reserves of strength he can muster within himself, he lifts himself back onto his feet, using his sword's scabbard as a makeshift cane as he brings himself the best he can to his full height. After a moment to breathe, a moment to draw the last of his stamina and he unsheathes the sword with a fluid motion, the scabbard now falling in a clatter to the ground as he lifts the glimmering sword up towards those eyes. With a steadfast look and a brilliant golden gaze, he speaks clearly.

"Listen here, you beast. I, Dande of Hammerlocke, Leon of the Goddess _will_ protect the city and the seal it carries. I am willing to sacrifice everything for the seal, and I am willing to lay down my very life for the city. You _will_ provide me the power to do so, or you can die here by my sword."

His voice carries unhampered across the cavernous area despite the dryness of his throat, his words carrying even over the heavy growls of the creature in front of him (that watches him with those narrowed, inquisitive, worldly eyes).

The beast speaks finally, hissing and raspy. "I see you haven't lost your impetuousness after all these years, Dande of Hammerlocke."

Leon steadies his sword, his stance strong in the face of danger. "And my strength will not leave me until I have made good on my word, beast."

"Then let me answer you in the way that you deserve, Lion of the Goddess."

The Champion then winces as the room is abruptly flooded in a sea of light, torches that line the walls suddenly ablaze in a brilliant orange flame as Leon throws up an arm to guard his eyes from the brilliance. When he finally can look upon the being that has guided him here he finds his breath carried away in a dance of flame.

The beast stood tall, a long, lithe body of shimmering, iridescent obsidian scales, a back that lined itself with black spines that point towards a pair of large, orange-and-blue trailed wings (perhaps a wingspan of easily over a dozen men across). The dragon's underbelly was a metallic, golden surface that lines from their throat to the end of their tail. Most striking, however, were those brilliant eyes the color of the sky, ablaze with wisdom and knowledge and yet all-simultaneously glimmering in an amused nature, settled upon Leon's awe-struck form. A large jaw opens revealing an intimidating row of sharp teeth as another rumbling, loud laugh takes over the large room, the very sound shaking the walls as the dragon stands upon all fours to peer down at Leon (for that is what the knight knows it to be, a dragon… _the_ dragon of Hammerlocke, the very creature that was hailed as the Goddess' right-hand divine messenger in the sermons he listened to throughout his childhood, the beast that Leon prayed to for strength whenever training reached an especially arduous peak, the very deity that adorns the walls of this city and serves as the very symbol of wisdom and protection).

Leon finds his attention snapping back to the present as the dragon wryly lifts a large paw, a talon pointing towards the knight's way. "Brave of you to challenge a _dragon_ , Champion." The beast's spines vibrate in a show of laughter as Leon immediately lowers his sword, throwing his head down in a reverent bow.

"Forgive me, Kibana, of my unseemly behavior. As a Champion for your Goddess, my words are inexcusable." 

The dragon chuckles, settling on their haunches, their regal head lifted high as it peers down a long snout towards the bowed knight as those eyes narrow to blue slits. Instead of acknowledging the stout apology offered to them, the creature instead speaks in a low rumbling growl, the noise carrying straight to Leon's head… and again, something is so familiar, so nostalgic about this very moment, the fog licking at the very ends of the threads of his memory (and he thinks again to the one with blue eyes with his wide, toothy grin and ever sharp sarcastic nature). 

"How strong is your devotion to the Goddess, Leon?"

Leon responds immediately, no hesitation or doubt present in that unwavering air. "I spoke the truth, I would willingly give my life for the Goddess' city and the one that bears her curse."

The dragon's maw seems to curl in a shrewd smile, gratuitously self-amused glimmer to those wise eyes. "Such loyalty for the Goddess, but, oh, I know of your reasons. The one who bears this seal this era… it is your brother, is it not?"

Again those wide, innocent golden eyes come back to mind as Leon lifts his head sharply. He panics briefly, but his logic tugs him back to composure. As a deity that serves the Goddess and guardian of the city, surely it makes sense for the great being to know of his blood tie to the seal.

"Yes, Great One, that is true."

The title brings a noticeable shudder along the dragon's spines, a noise of relishment vibrating from deep within that long throat. "How good it feels to be called that once again, however from your lips it does feel quite strange. Those lips were the only ones I could never bring that title willingly from."

Again, that strange sense of familiarity that the dragon seems to impose upon him, as if he knew the Great One from another life. But surely, this was their first meeting, Leon would have devoted such a grand memory such as meeting a _dragon_ straight to the heart. As of now, he could not bring to mind any memory from his childhood past to the present of any such significant event. His thoughts wander over, however, the many "lives" that Kibana had referred to, to the strange senses of repetitiveness he finds in this very event. His brows furrow, lips pursing in a motion of thought.

The dragon notices his moment of pause, raising their head back to its previous height and drawing Leon's attention once more to him. "We have no time for distractions," (here Leon notes dryly to himself that it was the Great One who had consumed most of his time with his dawdling), "And so, Champion, the city is under siege. Of course, I know who dares lay a hand upon the city under the great Kibana's attention, I suppose the last time I ate their accursed leader's head wasn't warning enough to keep them away."

Perhaps the dragon noticed Leon's pallid complexion, for he turned an eye towards him keenly. "I jest, I have no palate for human flesh. Too grisly."

At that the dragon brings themself to their full height, an ethereal glimmering light taking on their very visage. Those eyes the color of mountain springs alight even in the brightness, taking on a luminescent luster as a primordial aura takes upon the dragon's body. Leon found himself surrounded in an encapsulating heat, the torches upon the wall taking on a golden, dazzling light. Leon raises his hands to protect his gaze from the brilliance, but nothing can guard him from the very impact of Kibana's booming voice.

"Here the contract will once more be forged between Dande and Kibana, may the Goddess bear witness to this renewal." The dragon settles that intense stare upon Leon, the very force of the beast's gaze pinning Leon in his kneeling position. His sword falls to the ground, its metallic clang dulled by the sheer ferocity of the Great One. Nothing will draw attention away from that majestic being, not even the legendary sword of Champions.

"Our bodies and minds will be brought together in a holy bond. My shield and your sword will again combine to create the hero of Hammerlocke and serve as the true Guardian of the Goddess." Leon feels the heat intensify, his throat closing and making every breath a struggle… and yet he cannot find fear in his heart, instead enraptured by the holy being in front of him.

"Champion, do you accept this contract?"

Despite the exhaustion that holds upon his limbs, despite the injuries of war panging at his bones, despite the very _pressure_ of the dragon emanates by merely looking to his small, frail body, Leon stands, lowering his guarding arms to reveal those intense golden eyes and a wide, almost manic grin upon his face. The fog in his head dissipates, all doubt and fear gone from his mind, a fervent happiness clutching his heart.

"I accept!"

Kibana lets out a mighty roar, jaws opening as a bright orb is revealed within the dragon's maw. That voice returns to Leon's head, as ever loud, as ever confident. 

_'Your heart, combine it with mine, Champion.'_

And Leon's body moves on its own, a hand lifting to his chest as a potent pain shoots through his body. The knight looks down to his grip and watches in wonder as a shining orb similar to the one that sits in the Great One's mouth makes its way out of the surface of his chest, fluttering and warm before settling itself within his palm. Instinctively, he lifts the hand carrying his heart up to the dragon and Kibana lowers their head, and the two orbs touch.

Everything becomes a dazzling white, and Leon feels his conscious fading.

  
-

He is first aware of a cradle of warmth, not unlike the loving embrace of a mother. A small shake and Leon opens his eyes to meet the gaze of a young boy with strange, slitted aqua eyes and a wide, toothy grin.

"Wake up, Dande, we haven't reached the glen yet!"

It only takes a breath of thought for Leon to realize it is the embrace of this boy he finds himself in. He sits up, almost immediately aware of the lack of hair that touches his neck. He reaches up to find his hair shorter before slowly glancing to his hands, realizing their smaller size and lack of scars. He stands with a start, causing the boy next to him to jump in surprise.

A once over himself revealed his suspicions: no doubt, he was back to his childhood body.

"So quick, I wouldn't expect anything less from my rival!" the boy laughs, standing himself and brushing off blades of grass from bruised, spindly legs. 

Leon wants to ask where he is, why he is here, and who this boy could be. The last he had been conscious he was making a contract with the Great One, and yet he was returned to the past. While the knight (or, well, pre-knight) tries to inquire any of these questions from this strange boy, he finds himself speaking without control. 

"I was _not_ napping, I was just taking a break!"

The boy visibly rolls his eyes before resting a hand on his hip with another grin, and Leon finds his gaze drawn to a prominent canine. "Sure you were, I bet you were just tired from me just _beating_ you in the race."

And Leon now finds his movements become not his own, and he watches in a mild panic as he lifts an arm to attempt to flick the other child on the forehead. "It's not _my_ fault I got lost. You didn't say the finish line was the millhouse, you changed the rules."

The boy in return snickers, dodging easily out of the way while simultaneously picking a leaf out of Leon's head, a sing-song tone to his voice as he responds with a flick of said leaf into Leon's nose. "Race me to the glen, then!"

As the boy turns to run back towards the field, Leon finally notices the strange collar that is wrapped around the boy's neck.

He takes a step forward to follow the boy (and he faintly hears himself shouting a, "Headstart, no fair!" after that retreating figure) his conscious fails him again. He falls back into darkness.

  
-

"I suppose the weak state you were in when entering the contract was overwhelming upon your body. I forgot how weak you mortals can be, at times, even you Dande cannot escape such limitations of your species."

Leon's lids flutter open, finding himself enveloped in a warmth once more. As he sits up (easily, much to his surprise) he finds himself in the crook of a scaly arm, and a warm breath on his neck has him looking up at the bemused gaze of the Great One. He quickly finds his way to his feet, moving back to dip his head apologetically and to mutter an apology.

Only, no voice leaves his lips. 

"You no longer can speak that way, Champion. The pact this time around has marked itself upon your tongue." The dragon snorts, shaking its great head. "Inconvenient, but it has placed itself in worse places before. You should still be able to make basic noises, however, your lungs and throat are intact."

Leon finds himself trying to respond again only to feel air leave his throat effortlessly. His brows furrowed as he grunts in frustration, his hands raising to touch his lips tentatively. While he supposed this was not a reason for any real panic -- he was, of course, ready to have given his own life for the power to protect the city, he supposed that his voice was a much more agreeable price -- this may serve inconvenient in matters of communication. Besides, now how was he supposed to speak to the Great One.

"Worry not, Champion, I will become your voice, much like I was your eyes long before." Kibana speaks to the other's concerns easily, lowering their head to peer at eye level at Leon. "If you have noticed yet, we may speak through the soul. Our hearts are now one, after all. My everything is now yours, my eyes, my voice, my strength, even my life. Surely you've also noticed that there no longer are any torches ablaze in this room, yes? And yet you see."

At the mention of such a thing Leon looks in bewilderment towards the walls. Sure enough, no torches were lit and yet he could see in the gloom. Leon then lifts his hand in front of his face, waving it experimentally only to find that he could see every movement clearly. In fact, perhaps even in a more definitive clarity. His reaction elicits a rumbling chuckle from the dragon, who folds their front legs neatly across the other. "No matter how many times I get this response from you, it is as amusing as the first."

The more Leon looks at his hands he finds it strange that his fists were no longer bruised, his fingers no longer stained from blood. He looks over himself, his eyes widening as the previous injuries from his battles have cured magically from his body, even his exhaustion lifted and his previous invigorated stamina returning. Was this the power of a contract with a dragon?

"Not just any dragon, Champion, but the Great Kibana. Do not presume any dragon would have this sort of power. Any lesser being would have succumbed alongside you to your injuries." That growling voice speaks with a hint of pride.

Leon would have thought the messenger of the Goddess would have been a more modest bloke, but the gratefulness of his newfound strength outweighed his surprise.

As Leon reaches for his sword (still laying upon the ground where he had dropped it before), his head lifts to the distant sound of bells. He grimaces, looking towards the opening in the ceiling and at the distant sky. The morning chimes, dawn was upon them. 

A great growl and Leon again is peering at Kibana as the dragon slowly stands, the very walls dusting at the precise, powerful movements. The dragon's wings slowly unfold as the beast walks past Leon to stand below the opening, looking towards the sky and breathing in deeply with a hiss.

"It's been so long since I've breathed the morning air." Spoken with a sigh, almost wistful. Leon watches while sheathing his sword, his chest squeezing strangely in a moment of sympathy for the dragon. Such a beautiful, large creature meant for the skies, only to be… shackled (the word Kibana had used, Leon realized with a start) to the city they protect. 

"I need not your pity, Champion, it was my choice to become this city's protector." The dragon speaks lowly to Leon, but their head is still upturned to the sky as if unwilling to look away. Then with a great shudder, Kibana's wings fully unfurl in their grand size. 

"Quickly, to my back. It will take too long for us to ascend by stairs." 

Leon's brows shoot up on his forehead. Just having slept upon the Great One's arm had felt blasphemous, but to ride upon their back like a mount felt ungodly. The dragon's maw once more returns to that strange, serpentine grin, a slitted eye fixating upon Leon.

"Please, Champion, you practically hold half my heart by now. You and I are one, and thus my rule over the skies is now yours as well." Kibana looks back to the opening as another bell chimes, this one three short clangs done in rapid succession before being repeated. The warning bell, a bell that called for battle. The dragon rumbles, a low noise that briefly strikes a strange dread in Leon's heart.

"Quickly now, Champion, it seems as if our enemies approach."

Before Leon could react, Kibana moves their tail deftly to pick the knight up in a quick swipe before placing the man precariously upon their back between two of those grand spikes. And Leon, surprisingly, despite having never done this action before in his lifetime, finds himself settling easily in this spot upon the Great One's back, a confidence in his movements as he locks his knees upon the dragon's scales, his hands finding perch upon the spike in front of him.

He finds himself drawn to the soft vibration that he can feel underneath the layer of those sturdy scales, akin to the flutter of wings, the soft brush of a lover's touch, the warmth of an autumnal sun. The heart that Leon now shares.

The dragon shudders before giving an experimental flap of his wings, head still lifted to the sky above (and a glance had Leon spotting the rays of morning light swaddling the entrance, morning was quickly advancing). Leon feels the weight beneath him shift slightly and, again, Kibana returns to his head.

"Hang on tight, Champion."

And with but two strong flaps of those large wings, they were alight. 

Leon watches as the staircase spirals quickly around them, rooms and systems of Kibana's collection rushing past as stray pages tear from their bindings in the wake of the dragon's great flight, tailing them like an entourage of fluttering paper as the rounded sky above becomes larger and larger, closer and closer. Despite the graveness of the situation, Leon couldn't help but feel a seed of elatedness sow its way into his heart. 

Finally, in a flurry of papers and wind out from the shrine entrance, Kibana and Leon emerge easily from the shrine entrance. The journey that had taken Leon almost several hours to complete was a mere few flaps of Kibana's wings. Soon, they found themselves in the morning canopy of the sky, Kibana outstretching his wings to allow themselves to hover briefly in the air as Leon looked for the first time upon his beautiful city from the view of the birds he once looked enviously at below. 

A laugh bubbles its way from his chest to his throat, leaving his lips before he can control himself. Kibana, however, merely responds with a laugh of his own, a comforting noise that encourages Leon to whoop as the dragon turns his wings to fly towards the city gates.

As they approach the entrance walls Leon immediately spots the red banners of the Rose flying brazenly upon the hills, the flower a thorn upon the rural fields. Some of the farmhouses unfortunate enough to be close to the Rose's camps were ablaze in a black flame, no doubt the results of black magic. Leon feels anger find itself into his stomach, replacing the elatedness he had felt mere moments before.

_'They will suffer for infringing on the Goddess' lands.'_

The dragon seems to snicker, projecting his thoughts back towards Leon. _'Took you long enough to learn how to speak through your heart, eh?'_

The dragon below him then finds a perch upon the great city's walls, rearing their head and letting out a noble roar and drawing the eyes of cityfolk and Rose soldiers alike. The sound shakes the very ground, Leon looking viciously over the field of blood and broken weapons straight at the army with a determined glare. Oh how these Roses will rue the day they enraged a dragon and a Champion.

-

Across the field, tucked in a safe spot far behind the frontlines and away from prying eyes, a man with amused green eyes and a boy with blonde, curly hair exit out of a crimson tent, looking towards the shimmering beast atop the broken wall. The man with green eyes smiles softly, an appreciative glint in his eye. 

"He's finally awakened, that dragon, took the ancient thing long enough this time around. Now, the first step to breaking the seal has come to pass."

With only a movement of the man's hand, the boy next to him kneels with a respectful bow of his head, an arm upon his knee. "Yes, master Rose."

Rose places a hand (adorned with many rings, flesh marked with a burnt symbol) upon the boy's head, rubbing at those blonde curls in some fake show of endearment. "The day has come for you to finally fulfill your purpose. You will not fail me today, yes, Bede?" Here, the fingers atop his head tighten subtly (but enough, just enough). "It is for this very purpose that you came to me anyways, yes?"

Bede's lip wavers out of sight from Rose's piercing gaze, but his tone remains steady. "Yes, master Rose, I will not fail."

Rose finally lifts his hand after a moment of thought, tucking it back into his coat pocket before giving a falsely kind chuckle. "Of course you won't, I believe in you after all! Now remember, when you have the seal in hand, merely tap three times on your bracelet. We will then be able to retrieve you and the seal. Easy as pie, wouldn't you say?"

Bede keeps his eyes upon the grass he kneels upon, noting languidly a lost ant treading through the grass. "Yes, very easy, sir."

The man chuckles again (cold sounding in Bede's ears, and yet it is the sole source of comfort to the nerves that threaten to unthread his heart within). "Now, don't leave me waiting. Go on."

With another nod, Bede stands and treads away towards the city, not even sparing the dragon and his rider a glance.

No, those dull, blank eyes remained locked on one thing, and one thing alone: the lonely, tall stone tower that sits in the center of the city.

-

Leon feels muscles ripple under his legs as the Great One looks across the field in a rumbling growl, and a strange thought enters his head that this was not unlike a cat surveying their prey. He unconsciously reaches down to rub along the other's scales, and the dragon rumbles again, this time appreciatively. The knight is encouraged by this reaction, now reaching to run his hand along the spine. With another snort, the dragon speaks in a whisper. 

_'Stay alert, Champion, while you may now carry my heart you still are weak to their magicks. Stay within the shelter of my presence and you should not be harmed, however if you are to find yourself separated from me I cannot guarantee our safety.'_

The knight's hand pauses, those sun-tinged eyes looking to the dragon with an alarmed look.

_'_ Our _safety?'_

The dragon shifts their weight upon the wall. _'It goes without saying that due to us now sharing a heart we also share a life. Should you lose your life, I too will lose mine. In the same vein, should I lose my life you will lose yours, but this will never happen so you need not fear of that happening.'_

This does little to reassure Leon's sudden rise in anxiousness as he is suddenly made aware again of the beating he feels underneath his fingertips. The significance of the contract he has made sits even heavier upon his shoulders. The life of the very guardian of the city sits upon his own… and his heart falters at the thought. Kibana seems to notice with a shudder of their great body. 

_'I doubt we ever will be separated a great enough distance for this to be a concern, Champion, so cease your fretting. Just put your trust in my strength.'_ Here the dragon coils their hind legs, and Leon knowingly braces himself upon the spine he was holding. The impending thrill of battle already had adrenaline running through Leon's body, his very breath carrying the tension of expectation and anxiety. In an attempt to diffuse his stress, Leon asks a rather inept question.

_'How will we fight them, then, do you breathe fire?'_

The Great One laughs, a rumbling noise that Leon feels throughout his body.

_'No, Lion, something much better.'_

And as Kibana took off again across the Rose-infested field, their mighty maw opened up to release a great slew of dazzling lightning.

Leon was promptly overwhelmed by the scent of burnt ions and fabric as the Rose's forces scatter in fear from the plasma that the dragon breathes, red banners caught in the angry sparks caught aflame, the very clouds above them seeming to change to Kibana's will… almost as if he could control the weather. The knight watched in awe as the dragon wreaked havoc from above, the Rose's forces unable to do anything to the tough scales that cover the dragon. As dark flames of black magic begin to make their way from the hooded mages in the back Kibana merely turns their head to flail the galvanic power upon them instead. 

When Kibana finally lands the Rose's men are already in disarray from the electric attack. The dragon shakes their head, sending a quick warning Leon's way. _'Mind your grip, I will be letting out thousands of years worth of energy now. Don't fall off.'_

The knight lowers his body closer to the dragon's back as they let out another ear-splitting roar, watching entertained (and with quiet guffaws) as some of the Rose's men fell upon their backsides in fear. Some innate part of himself felt a sort of retribution in seeing these men so fearful of the city's Guardian, the messenger of the Goddess herself here to punish the sins of these men. 

And the messenger took on the form of a large black dragon with a swinging tail tearing through the crimson-colored camp and four trampling, destructive legs. 

Then at the drop of a hat, the warriors of the Order turned from panicking warriors struggling to fight back to a group of efficient workers packing up the camps and readying for retreat. Leon watched incredulously as, in a quick flourish, the red-clad soldiers wrapped up the rose-adorned banners and marched away across the hills back towards Wyndon. As quickly as the army had come, they were gone, and this battle (if it could be called that) was over almost as soon as it had begun. Kibana below him hisses, wings outstretched as they roar after the retreating army with a thunderous shout, his claws crushing the remaining rubble of what was left behind by the fleeing army.

"AND DON'T COME BACK, YOU DARK COWARDS."

Leon laughs, and Kibana shakes in his own chuckle below him.

The knight sits back up upon the dragon's back, the shimmering sun above now high in the sky. The clouds that Kibana had summoned had quickly dissipated after the battle's end, giving a clear view of the sky above. It was mid-morning by now, the wispy darkness of night that had clung onto the edges of the canopy during the dawn having given way to the beautiful blue above (a color that is not dissimilar to the very color that is framed within the Great One's eyes). Kibana seems to peer the sky through him, although his eyes are still settled upon the still retreating figures upon the horizon.

_'It truly is beautiful, a morning sky, especially after a storm.'_

Leon leans back upon the spine behind him, tugging upon the torn leather tunic upon his frame (for his armor still remained abandoned in the shrine below). _'Indeed, the sky serves as a promise from the Goddess after all, a tranquil ceiling to remind us of the peace we should strive to fulfill on Earth below.'_

The dragon snorts (something they are prone to doing to statements they find absurd, Leon finds). _'Ah, yes, you mortals and your fascination with the Goddess. Honestly, if she were still here… she would find all of this doctrine repeating quite dull.'_

The knight sits up, purple locks falling in a messy array upon his shoulders as golden eyes widen in cartoonish surprise. 

_'Just how old are you, Great One?'_

Another snort. _'Not old enough to escape your idiocy, apparently.'_

Leon shrugs off the insult, instead turning his ears towards the town as the bells toll once more within the town (two rings, repeated slowly and surely, the bell giving the all-clear). Leon is then acutely aware of the approach of what is undoubtedly a very curious crowd (he could even hear their excited exclamations, was this another amplification of sense through Kibana?).

Before he can state such concerns to the dragon, Kibana lowers themself to the ground. _'Get off and find me human clothing, preferably for taller men and before that crowd gets here. Gauging how quick the most nimble of them are walking, we have but a quarter of the hour.'_

The Champion raises a brow before swinging a leg carefully over the dragon's back and sliding easily off using Kibana's outstretched wing, finding his way to the ground before looking up towards the beast with a tilt of his head. _'Is there a reason why you need such things in particular that I should know?'_

The dragon's eyes narrow, large head tilting as well in response. _'Perhaps your questions would be answered if you were to do what I ask, Champion.'_ Then added with another dragon grin, _'It has taken you such little time to have gotten this spectacularly insubordinate in the time we have forged this pact, little Lion.'_

Leon balks, but he supposed the dragon had a point. There was something so easy about exchanging banter with the dragon, to treating the dragon he once only knew through legends and depictions upon the city walls like a friend he had known all his life. With a nod he turns towards the field, taking a quick survey of his surroundings. Whatever clothing that the Rose had left behind was out of the question, much of the camps that weren't packed were currently singed, with the scent of burnt atmosphere still sitting heavy in the air. Leon hums, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. He supposed he could give his own clothing as a last effort if he can't find something, although he would rather keep his modesty in front of the actual messenger of the Goddess (and the dragon behind him rumbles before shaking slightly, almost as if to hide a laugh).

His worries are abated minutes later as he finds a metallic chest sitting relatively unharmed below an overturned cart. With a grin and a quick shove of his shoulder, he uncovers the chest and unearths it from where it had buried itself in the ground, most likely from the weight of the cart and the impact of the chest combined. Upon brushing off the dirt off the chest, however, he is immediately discouraged by a large iron padlock. He frowns. He supposed things can never be this easy. 

He unsheathes his sword to strike at the lock, but a weary glance upon the lock has him hesitating. The lock was well-crafted and thick, a misblow would mean inevitable rebound and a possible self-inflicted injury, and while he would most likely be unharmed by such a thing (through Kibana's heart), it was more of the embarrassment of losing such face in front of the dragon that inhibited Leon's decision making.

A huff of air behind him and Leon has Kibana's voice return to his head. _'Surely you haven't forgotten that my power is also yours? Do you think a padlock of such calibre would be enough to withstand my strength and the Champion's sword?'_

Goaded on by Kibana, Leon sets his teeth before taking a practiced swing from overhead upon the lock. The lock gives as easily as butter underneath a hot knife, the snap of metal loud as the two halves of the mechanism cut cleanly in half fall to the ground. 

Leon had barely felt a thing. He looks in awe at his sword, his mouth agape as he looks to the black-tinted metal surface. Not even so much as a nick.

_'Your sword is fashioned from my scales, Lion, there is nothing that it will not cut if given enough strength. Now quickly, if that chest is devoid of clothing we will have lost much time for little purpose.'_

_'For one of the Goddess of Tranquility, you are quite the impatient being.'_ Leon responds in his head in a teasing tone, devoid of any hostility as he sheathes his sword once more and opens up the chest with an easy hand. He quickly spots the white linen of clothing within, fishing out a linen, laced shirt and pair of brown leather ketill pants. Hopefully their size would be sufficient for what Kibana seeks. _'The Goddess favors us, the chest holds clothes.'_

_'After many decades spent waiting underground, I think I have the right to some modicum of impatience. Besides, I wish to greet my people in a form that may better relate to, and to do so I must be clothed.'_ The dragon huffs, the hot air carrying the scent of plasma over to where Leon stood several meters away.

Leon clutches the bundle of clothes to his chest as he turns back to the dragon, walking carefully over the debris as he pieces together Kibana's words. _'So you mean to say you can become human?'_

Kibana shakes their head in a bull-like fashion. _'Appear human, naive one. I can change my form and make myself smaller, but I am still the Great One.'_

_'Of course, Great One, and we all still will treat you with the reverence that you deserve.'_

_'I know not whether you are speaking genuinely or out of sarcasm, but I will prefer and thus assume the former.'_

As Leon places the clothes in front of Kibana, the dragon stands again and stretches their neck and limbs, again reminiscent to Leon of a stretching cat. 

_'I would prefer you not relate me to such a lowly animal.'_ Kibana speaks with a sulk in their voice as they close their eyes. Leon watched curiously as Kibana's very scales seemed to glow, or perhaps it was the flesh below the scales that began to emit an eerie blue light. The dragon lids a single lid to peek at Leon, a disapproving glint to its shine. _'Now if you please would like to offer me some privacy, oh modest knight.'_

The knight turns at the other's command, gaze settling upon the opened chest in the distance. He had barely looked at the contents, having been preoccupied in the task of looking for clothes, but he had noted a strange book of sorts within, its leather cover etched with a detailed rose. He made a mental note to pocket it, perhaps it would hold key information that may help them stave off the next siege attempt by the Order.

"With me on your side, you won't need cheap tricks like that." Kibana spoke in response to his wandering thoughts, although their voice sounded noticeably less animal-esque and was missing that characteristic growl-like intonation. "How about turning around, Champ."

Leon turns on command to find himself face-to-face with a tan, lithe man with mussy, shoulder-length dark hair who stood a head taller than the knight himself, causing the Champion to look up in shock (for he himself was not a short man). There was something so strangely familiar to the apparent human in front of him, adorned in that white linen shirt (which was tucked neatly into the leather pants, thankfully both seemed to fit the male well enough) and the arrogant, wise air that hangs around that toothy grin. Leon looks to the other's eyes, immediately drawn to their deeply intense sky blue. His jaw drops in an almost comedic nature.

_'Great One?'_

The man grins, and Leon finds his eyes drawn to the prominent canine that sits within thin lips. 

"The one and only. Although, in this form, you can call me Raihan."

* * *

**THE GREAT ONE, KIBANA: MESSENGER OF THE GODDESS.**

**Author's Note:**

> For those who are familiar with Drakengard:
> 
> Caim - Dande/Leon  
> Angela - Kibana/Raihan  
> Furiae - Hop  
> Inuart - Bede  
> Chaos Order Leader - Rose
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, please relay them in the comments below and I will be sure to answer as soon as possible. Any feedback or discussion is also welcome! I just really think dragon Raihan is neat and wanted to throw my own version of dragon Raihan in the ring.


End file.
